The Widow's Web
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: The Black Family holds more secrets and surprises than anyone could ever imagine; this web of purity that dates so far back, with such elegant lines of purity in our blood. Even though the strings that break are disposed of, our secrets are still ours to hide. - A collection of oneshots/drabbles, relating to each member of the Black Family, starting with the earliest recorded.
1. Licorus - Sexual Secrets

A.N: This will be a series of oneshots and drabbles, each one specific to every listed member of the Black Family (that is, members born with the Black family name and women married into the Black family, not the non-Black husbands as well or I'd be here forever). Starting with the oldest and ending with the youngest (or, approximately, as some birthdates are unknown.)

* * *

><p><strong>i<strong>

**Licorus Black**

Like the rest of my family, I had been sorted into Slytherin House when I was sent to Hogwarts in the year 1819. However, it wasn't my fellow Slytherins that I ultimately befriended.

I despised the way the other Slytherins treated me; like I was some kind of royal. I had grown up listening to my delinquent father telling me things like that; that the only house worthy of me was Slytherin, and "Licorus, if you dare to taint our family honour with traitors or impurities, you will be disowned without further ado." Of course, I agreed with him on some level, I _do _think that pure-blood should be supreme, but I still didn't think that people needed to worship me.

Frankly, I hated the attention.

So, it wasn't much of a surprise to me when I found myself sitting next to a white-blonde Hufflepuff boy in Transfiguration class, aptly named Xavier Rastrick. He was an unusual boy, who sat alone most of the time, usually in the library, reading.

Xavier and I became fast friends, much to the disgust of my father, when I told him during the summer holidays, after my first year at Hogwarts.

"I was in the same year as Xavier Rastrick's father," he sneered, curling his moustache around his finger. "He was named Xavier, too. Awful fellow, he was."

"Why, Father?" I demanded to know. "I personally find Xavier quite entertaining, and he speaks nothing but highly of his father. He's an entertainer, you know, performs magic tricks for muggles."

"Ha!" Mr Black scoffed. "Have you heard yourself, boy, spouting off tripe like that? You will be joining your beloved friend I assume, in his fathers…_Freak Show_!" He spat the last two words, glaring nastily at his me. "No. You will stop this nonsense at once – you're not to be friends with that…_lunatic_. When you go back to school, you will break off this…friendship…with the Rastrick brat, and start interacting with someone a little more appropriate," Mr Black reached towards the astray, situated on a small table near his chair, and withdrew a fat, smoking cigar. He took a long drag, and breathed out slowly. "The Malfoys have children at Hogwarts, I assume."

"I hate those pretentious Malfoys," I murmured, more to myself than to Father.

But nonetheless, when I returned to Hogwarts for my second year, I swiftly avoided the beaming, innocent face of Xavier. I spent a week dodging him in corridors, classrooms and the library, but I was unlucky when Transfiguration rolled around, and I was once again, placed next to Xavier for a second year.

Xavier edged up as close as he could get to me, and whispered softly; "Have I done something to upset you, Licorus?"

I stared firmly forwards, my dark eyes focused on the lesson ahead. Xavier nudged me sharply, with his pointy elbow, making me flinch and glare at him. "No!" I hissed in response. "Just leave me alone, Xavier."

So Xavier did just that. He shrunk back from me, and tried to mask the look of hurt that washed over his watery blue eyes, but I caught it. It made my heart sting, at the pain I was obviously causing my friend, but there was nothing I could do. Inwardly, I cursed my stupid bloodline, and my stupid father, and his stupid fathers before him, for making the ridiculous, unspoken rules about blood purity.

For years, I had nothing to do with Xavier. I did as Father wished, and made friends with the other pure-blood Slytherins; with family names such as Bulstrode, Yaxley, and of course, Malfoy. By my seventh year, I had a whole gang of new friends that my father was pleased of, but I still always thought of Xavier. From afar, I watched my old friend grow into a strong young man. His childhood innocence seemed to fade as his clock ticked, and by his seventh year he was tanned, muscly from playing as a Chaser in the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, his hair was no longer the colour and texture of duckling fluff, more like soft, golden waves surrounding his face in a halo.

Every day, I regretted that I hadn't stood up to my father. My feelings of attraction to Xavier were impure; and I knew what the x-rated dreams I had during the night meant. I tried to push aside the swell of jealousy that rose in my chest when I saw that Xavier had started to court with my little sister, Phoebe (much to the dislike of their father). He told her he liked her pretty blue eyes, but he wasn't aware of the amount of spells that were placed on her eyes, after a previous accident…

There was nothing I could do, now. My story was just the first thread of the web – of generations and generations of pain, suffering, and impurity – all thanks to my _desirable_ bloodline.


	2. Magenta - An Intellectual Beard

**ii**

**Magenta Black (née Tripe)**

Rising as the matriarch of the House of Black wasn't what I had in mind for life.

In fact, I wasn't sure _what _I had in mind for my life. I wanted to travel; wanted to see the world and make something of my life. But when I was sixteen, my mother told me that I was betrothed to the eldest member of the Black clan, and I would marry him in the winter. "Oh, Magenta. He's a lovely young boy…very well groomed, I've heard."

I cried and cried, for hours, days, weeks. Deep down, I guessed that this would happen – I was doomed to live my life as my mother had; nothing but an empty, waiting womb, who would spend my next few decades of fertile life bearing proud and precious heirs. But I didn't expect that the one I would marry would be _Licorus Black_.

Secrets flew around Hogwarts about Licorus. No one would dare say anything to his face, of course, judging from the clan he came from, but it was definitely on the minds of his peers. Licorus liked boys, namely, Licorus liked Xavier.

I never really thought about Licorus; much less about his sexual preferences.

But I couldn't help but wonder about his sexuality when I was stood at the altar, facing my dearly beloved. Licorus leaned forward to present the sealing kiss, angling his lips slightly at the end so that they only touched the corner of my mouth. I saw his eyes dart to the left of me, and when I followed his gaze, he was looking at the blonde boy, seated a few rows back, his arm thrown around Phoebe.

At the reception service, my eyes welled up with tears when Licorus read out his marriage speech. I allowed all of our relatives and friends to believe that I was sobbing with happiness, but it was a bitter lie.

I was crying because I knew that this was the end of my life. I would live out the rest of my days as nothing but Licorus' beard; subtly hiding the fact that my husband was actually gay.


	3. Hesper - The Lesser Twin

**iii**

**Hesper Black**

I am the twin sister of Licorus, and I always hoped and prayed that one day I would rise and be as beautiful and intelligent as my brother.

Licorus was always the more valued sibling. Even though he was just a few minutes older than me, he was always more appreciated, from the moment he burst out of the womb. Father scooped baby Licorus up into his arms, his eyes flooded with tears – a son! His first born was a _son_, a truly worthy heir of the main branch of his clan. He swept the baby boy away in his arms, leaving me behind with our mother – a pathetic woman, who had never even been to school; she was simply taught basic skills at home. The only spells she could do were ones that centred on cooking and cleaning.

Licorus got to go to the Quidditch World Tournament, and when I begged to come along, Father stiffly told me that "sports are not for young ladies, Hesper." Licorus was given private lessons on magic by Father, in the secretive lair of his study, but when I pleaded with Father to be taught something, he sneered, rolled his eyes, and told me to run along to the kitchen.

It was tragic, but I would never get to be as great as a man, in my father's eyes. It was Mother who begged that Phoebe, Alexia-Walkin, and I should be allowed to go to Hogwarts and get an education.

Forever being second best to Licorus left me with a lonely life. I forever lost interest in men or ever having children – who knew what kind of a husband or son I could gain?


	4. Alexia-Walkin - A Little Bit of Crazy

**iv**

**Alexia-Walkin Black**

Tick, tock.

I was eleven years old, and ten minutes away from death.

Tick, tock.

I flicked my marbles across the smooth wooden floor of my bedroom in Grimmauld Place. My head was brimming with thoughts; each one central to Phoebe's blue, blue eyes. I loved blue. One marble; small and green on the inside. The next marble; a little bigger than the first, with a red ribbon at its core. The third marble…

The third marble wasn't hard and heavy. It was soft, slightly squishy.

Tick, tock.

I laughed shrilly, a sound I didn't know I could make – five minutes.

Tick, tock.

I retrieved the matching marble to the third. Two marbles, white and streaked with red, but one side of each was slightly flat. Two bright, sapphire eyes, gazing up at me in horror.

A scream. Mother, her voice laced with pain. She'd discovered Phoebe.

Tick, tock. Three minutes to go.

The scream turned to shouts, blurred words and angry yells. Then my door flew open; Mother stood there in the entrance, her face streaked with tears and her mouth hanging open. She snatched the eyes out of my hand, and stared down at them in shock. "Alexia, what on earth have you done?" she cried out, her voice shaking. I smiled.

Tick, tock.

The next thing I knew, my mother was upon me, that piercing scream ripping from her throat again. She had grabbed a cushion from the bed, and within seconds, she was pressing it down on my face. I took one last gasp before my mouth and nostrils were filled with the musty cloth, slowly suffocating me.

But I didn't make any noise, and I didn't struggle. As Mother bitterly smothered the life out of me, I was happy. It was finally ending.

I was finally free.


	5. Phoebe - Sapphire Blue

**v**

**Phoebe Black**

To everyone around me; I was the starlet of the Black family. Everyone said I was the picture of feminine beauty, with long, thick black hair that fell like a glimmering onyx waterfall down my back and around my shoulders. My eyes; unlike my parents and siblings, were the shade of the brightest, newest sapphires.

It was unheard of that a member of the Black family would have blue eyes, and I constantly felt the pressure of that, even though no one really had anything bad to say about it. My mother and father praised my mesmerising good looks; my pale, porcelain white skin, slender limbs and waspy waist, the long eyelashes that framed my unusual eyes. Father said I was named for the Moon Goddess, as I shined brighter than the brightest star.

Hesper was admittedly envious; she hadn't been graced with such good looks. She had the typical dark hair, pale complexion and black eyes of her family. But Hesper's hair never grew past her neck, despite constantly trying to grow it out, and hung like lank, sad tendrils. Her colouring wasn't pale in a doll-like way, as mine was, but sicklier, sheet white. Her skin was paper thin, every vein visible on her arms, neck and legs. She wasn't sender and tall; quite the opposite. She was short; squat, and looked more like our mothers podgy sister. However, Hesper had more pressing worries than being jealous of me – she spent more of her time being envious of the attention that Licorus was getting from our father.

It was Alexia-Walkin that I should have been worried about.

Alexia never spoke. She isolated herself all day; every day. She was the sibling who discovered her magical ability the youngest; having caused the house-elf to soar through the air with his tea-tray, when he was heading to the dining room. She was four years old when she first unwillingly cast this spell, and thus became another child for Father to be proud of.

But something was missing in Alexia, and I felt like she was the only one who could see this. There was emptiness in her eyes; a strange, manic way she looked at me. She always stared at me, making me wary and uncomfortable of her.

Most nights, Alexia would lurk outside my bedroom, waiting for me to fall asleep. More often than not, I would wake up to find my sister hovering by my bed, doing nothing but smiling in the darkness. I wondered if, like Hesper, Alexia was jealous of me, and her creepy manner was reason for this. However, I didn't quite believe this. Alexia looked very similar to me, with the same pale skin, pouty mouth and long hair. The only difference was her eyes, which were as black as tar.

The realisation hit me that fateful night, when I opened her eyes in the night to see Alexia, as usual, stood next to my bedside in her white nightgown. She looked like a ghost, and I was about to tell her to go away, when I noticed that she had a melon baller in her left hand.

"What have you got there—oh my!"

I didn't get to finish her sentence, because suddenly, Alexia was on top of me, pinning my head back. In my groggy, half-asleep state, I didn't have the energy to push her off, and when I managed to regain some strength, it was already too late. Alexia had plunged the melon baller into my lower left eyelid, and effortlessly scooped out my eyeball.

Of course I shrieked. The pain was undeniable, and I passed out before Alexia got to my second eye.

* * *

><p>When I awoke, the world was dark. I was sure I was dead, but my mother's voice came to me, through my sightless state. "Phoebe, darling?" Her voice was full, like she had been crying for hours.<p>

"Mother…Alexis, she…"

"Now, now, there's no need to worry about that."

"Am I blind, Mother?"

My mother sighed. "For now, my darling. But you are in the hospital, and the young Healer is going to fix you up, good as new."

I allowed herself to drift back to sleep, with my mother's hand in mine. When I recovered, I would never learn of the true fate of my younger sister.


	6. Eduardus-Limette - Brotherly Love

**vi**

**Eduardus Limette Black**

* * *

><p>I was the only one cared about Alexis.<p>

It was evident that Alexis wasn't normally from being born. She never cried, never, not once, not even as a baby. Mother always chimed on about how noisy the rest of us; especially Phoebe, who had enough power behind her lungs to light up the Ministry of Magic.

But not Alexis. Alexis was silent from minute she slithered out of the womb.

She didn't really talk to anyone, just stared at them with her expressive eyes. It was only me that she spoke to when she did, and even then nothing ever made sense.

I knew she had always been obsessed with Phoebe and her eyes. She liked everything in order; she didn't like something to be the odd thing out. We were all dark haired, dark eyed and pale skinned. Phoebe was dark haired, blue eyed and pale skinned. She thought it was a mistake in the making of us all; and that mistake had to be fixed. It wasn't a surprise that Alexis went as far as to scoop her older sister's eyes out, though. Alexis had done worse.

She committed her first murder when she was just six years old. The house-elf, who she consistently teased after she discovered she was able to do magic – that house-elf was discovered in the kitchen cupboard with a pair of scissors rammed between the shoulder blades.

But I truly didn't expect Mother to _kill _Alexis.

I was so angry when I discovered her body; wrapped in a grey blanket and presented on the dining room table, as if her carcass was a trophy. No one was around; they were all focusing on Phoebe, precious Phoebe, trying to fix her beautiful pretty eyes and make them go back into her sockets.

I was being a little harsh to Phoebe, maybe so. It wasn't her fault she was born different, just like it wasn't Alexis' fault that she was born with her unusual mannerisms. But I loved Alexis the most out of all of my siblings.

Licorus was too busy to have an interest in me, even though he was my only brother. Father spent all of his time with him, teaching him, praising him, and trying to make him into the greatest little Black wizard that the world would see. Hesper, while she was always nice to me, was always trailing around after Licorus and our father, trying to prove that she was just as good as her twin. Phoebe spent most of her time shut up in her bedroom. Alexis was the only one who I could talk to, even though she never spoke back. And I knew she loved me the most.

So I couldn't just stand by when I found out what happened to my little sister. Hesper told me, in hushed tones, what had been the cause of her death, and I couldn't bear it. I flew into an unholy rage, and charged into Phoebe's bedroom. Mother was stooped over Phoebe's limp body, feeding her potion with a metal spoon, and there was a bloody rag tied around her face where her eyes should be.

I dragged Mother back by her long, grey-streaked hair, and balled my hands into fists. I commenced to punch her in the face, over and over again, until my knuckles were splattered red, and stronger arms were dragging me away. I turned around, the scarlet haze over my vision fading, and Father loomed into view. He was the last thing I saw of my family, as he raised his own fist, and shattered my cheekbone.

* * *

><p>When I awoke, I wasn't in my own bed.<p>

It took me only a few hours to learn what had happened. Mother and Father had unceremoniously shipped me off to an orphanage. I had been presented only as 'Eduardus Limette', instead of 'Eduardus Limette Black', so it was apparent I wasn't even worthy of my family name anymore.

What I expected to feel was pain; sorrow at being abjured from my bloodline. But I was surprised to feel nothing for the rest of my family, just chronic emptiness at the loss of my sister.

I may have been the first Black to be disowned, but I was sure mine wasn't the first or the last secret that would echo through the halls of Grimmauld Place.

oOo


	7. Misapinoa - Lost Hopes

**A.N: **Warnings: implied rape, miscarriage.

Most of the sibling relationships I've written about in these early members are not necessarily canon, just speculation.

* * *

><p><strong>vii.<strong>

**Misapinoa Black**

* * *

><p>It wasn't an easy task; to live when your life is so full of hatred and vengeful thoughts. But somehow, I managed to do it.<p>

* * *

><p>I never got on with my family too well. My father, Licorus, was away from home a lot, and people often spoke of his affections for other men. He died young, and though he and my mother shared little time together, she seemed to be deeply lost when he died. She sought solstice in her private chambers with a bottle of scotch, and myself and my siblings were left with the nursery maid.<p>

My brothers were disgusting, vindictive little things, but one of them was worse. Arcturus; who my father proclaimed was the 'brightest star in the sky', was only born on this earth to spite me. When he was younger, he didn't offend me. As he was born nine years after me, I was always a lot more mature than Arcturus, but as he began to age, this soon became void. Once he was eighteen and I was twenty-seven and happily married to Jimbo Blishwick, something happened that caused me to learn to fear my younger brother.

I was heavily pregnant when Arcturus attacked me. Almost eight months, with an enormous swollen stomach, but he didn't care.

Jimbo and I had opened our marital home to my brother, as my mother became sick with consumption. He spent many nights drinking; his tongue tuned into the taste of scotch that Mother had spent her widowed years with. He was almost always drunk, but I never imagined he could be so cruel.

How silly I was, to leave my wand in our bedroom whilst I was helping Arcturus to his bed. My pregnancy caused me to be too trusting.

Arcturus, in his drunken stupor, was stronger than my weak frame. He grew angry for unknown reasons, and lunged at me. In the darkness, I tried to fight my brother off, but it was useless. Before the night was out, Arcturus had maimed me and violated me in the most private and personal ways possible.

The shock caused me to lose my child, but the worst part was having to give birth to the still baby at only eight months. It broke mine and Jimbo's heart, and we never had the nerve to create life again.

We both sunk into depression, but Jimbo more than I did. As time passed, my depression moved on, and I felt nothing but anger and pure, undiluted hatred for my younger brother.

I was sixty-seven when I finally found peace. Arcturus and I crossed paths whilst visiting our brother Cygnus. I had not seen Arcturus since that fateful night, and I knew instantly what had to be done.

I shot a killing curse so full of hate at my brother, that sparks flew from all angles of my wand, landing on several Muggles that were walking and riding carriages down the street outside Cygnus' home at Grimmauld Place. Three people died, and Cygnus had to perform memory charms on multiple other Muggles, but I didn't care. I had my revenge.

* * *

><p>And now, at one hundred years old, I can finally leave this wretched earth. For many years, the pain was so hard to bear, and I wished that death would sneak up on me in my sleep. But I held out; I persevered.<p>

I'm finally ready to die, taking my dirty secrets with me.


	8. Cygnus I - My Little Brother

**viii.**

**Cygnus Black I**

* * *

><p>Arcturus and I were always close. We were more than brothers. Though we were born a few years apart, it was as though we were twins. We shared a nursery when we were young, and grew up together. Misapinoa was never as close to Arcturus as I was, and who could blame her for it.<p>

It was Jimbo, my brother-in-law, who told me what had happened to Misapinoa, about four years after the incident. While anger fuelled me for his violation of our sister, I couldn't bring myself to end his pitiful life. I tried to tell myself that it was because I wanted to leave the revenge to Misa, but the truth was far from the lie. Truthfully, I loved my brother too much. Even though he had committed a crime so disgusting and vile, I simply couldn't bring myself to hate him.

Instead, I kept Jimbo's story to myself, telling no one but my lovely wife, Ella. We were sitting in front of the fireplace when I explained the tale to Ella, and her face turned sheet white.

"Arcturus really did that?" she replied, her eyes wide and fearful. I nodded, and she returned her gaze to the fire.

Ella acted unusual for weeks after that, and never seemed able to look me directly in the eye. She became cold and distant, unable to make short conversation or remain in my presence for too long.

Even though I asked multiple times, Ella never had an answer for me. It was a secret I was never going to learn the root of.


	9. Arcturus I - Fear the Ripper

**ix.**

**Arcturus Black I**

* * *

><p>When I was a child, Aunt Phoebe bitterly told me I was very similar to her youngest sister, Alexis-Walkin.<p>

I was confused at first. Most of the Black family looked exquisitely alike, with dark hair and eyes. Everyone except Aunt Phoebe, of course.

When I was a little older, I asked Father about Alexis. He didn't say much to start with, but eventually he told me that she had been an interesting little girl. It was then that I realised that Alexis hadn't grown to be much older.

Though Father didn't tell me much else about Alexis, I discovered a journal that belonged to my father in my late teens, and quickly learned the truth about Alexis and her untimely death.

Perhaps as my time went on, I did become a little crazy. I sought out to destroy the hearts of the majority of the women around me, but none of them were enough. Even ruining the life of my sister didn't satisfy my craving for imminent destruction. But by the time I was fifty-three, women no longer flocked to me for my good looks and charm, and I was forced to entertain common prostitutes.

It was during 1888 that I committed my first, real murder. I didn't care for using my wand to remove the life of the whore I had previously bedded. I preferred to feel the life leaving their wretched bodies with my hands and weapons.

For months I found pleasure in murdering prostitutes and posting bodily parts and organs to the Muggle police service.

By the winter of 1888, I was known across England as Jack the Ripper.


	10. Ella - Bloody Indiscretions

**X**

**Ella Black (n****é****e Max)**

* * *

><p>It had been just one ridiculous, stupid mistake.<p>

I loved my husband. Of course I did. It was often the case that the participants of an arranged marriage were forced to spend their natural lives together in loveless harmony, but it wasn't the case for Cygnus and I. We loved one another from the moment we laid eyes on each other. I was happy to wed him, and even happier to bear his children.

So of course, you understand that my infidelities were _entirely _accidental.

Everyone always said that Arcturus was so charming, and he really, truly was. From a young age he was blessed with his father's good looks, and he certainly knew how to use them to his advantage. He flirted with all of the women around him, so I knew not to expect that the sweet nothings he spoke to me were meant for me alone. But yet...

For years I blamed Cygnus for my indiscretion. If he had not left for his sister's home, none of it would have happened. Arcturus, then at the ripe young age of twenty, was spending the evening at Grimmauld Place with us for dinner, and it was during dessert that Cygnus suggested that the two brothers took a visit to see Misapinoa and her husband, with the intention of discussing the care of their consummated mother. Arcturus almost choked on his wine at this idea, and quickly began to dab at his lips and chin with a napkin.

"My my, brother. I have not seen our dear sister since..." an air of thoughtfulness crossed over his face. "Two years, now."

"I am sure she will be delighted at a visit from her only brothers, Arcturus," Cygnus continued. "Come, the two of us will make tracks and travel there tonight. Mother is getting more and more ill by the day, so we need to make plans for her wellbeing."

Arcturus waved a hand and scoffed. "Misa has not spoken to me since I was eighteen. We don't get along, we never have. You know this, brother," he took another drink of his wine, and his eyes met mine across the table. I felt my stomach flutter. "Why don't I stay here and mind your family, and you visit our sister."

Cygnus took a moment to consider this, before finally nodding at his brother. "Excellent idea. You may spend the night keep Ella in good spirits, and I will return tomorrow evening," with that final statement, Cygnus left the table.

* * *

><p>It was only mere hours after Cygnus's departure that I found myself utterly enticed by Arcturus's charms. We were sitting together on the red plush loveseat, the same chair that Cygnus and I had made love on for the very first time. But somehow, that wasn't the thought that was running through my mind.<p>

All I could focus on were my brother-in-law's hands, which were cascading down my back and fingering at my corset strings. Those sinful hands; back then of which I had no idea were capable of committing the atrocities that they had. His honeyed mouth was pressing against my neck; his tongue lacing sickly sweet words against the shell of my ear.

In front of the fire and on that scarlet loveseat, Arcturus made love to me in the most intrusive and desirable way possible.

I never told my husband, of course. When, nine months later, I produced a daughter and named her Elladora, I still did not let on to Cygnus that Elladora was not his baby. I could never ruin him in that way.

And then, just over a year later, when Cygnus told me what Arcturus had done to Misapinoa, I still could not confess my sins to my husband.

Instead, I bore the pain like a thorny wreath, and wore it upon my crown until I died.


	11. Sirius I - Lost Child

**xi**

**Sirius Black I**

**(born to Cygnus Black I & Ella Max, 1845)**

* * *

><p>I was another child of the Black family who never got to live long enough to enjoy my life.<p>

Sleeping soundly in my bed. Just eight years old. Mother has recently blown out the candles in my bedroom; had closed the storybook she had previously been reading to me.

I'm happy; a smiling child. I have a good life with Mother and Father and my brother and sisters.

So why would anyone want to do what they did to me?

I don't know what happened. All I know is that I opened my eyes and looked over at the door, and saw a pair of bright, cerulean blue eyes.

There were sparks, green smoke, and then I was dead.

But who would murder an innocent little boy?


	12. Isla - Dishonourable Love

**xii**

**Isla Black**

**(Born to Cygnus Black I & Ella Black c. 1850s**

**Married Bob Hitchens, a Muggle, and was disowned.)**

* * *

><p>I loved Bob from the moment I saw him.<p>

It was in the lake in the forest near where Aunt Misapiona lived. I was wandering through the long, grassy shrubs, plucking out magenta wildflowers to adorn my aunt's hair with. She always was so sad, and it made me happy to see a smile flicker on her ghostly features when I brushed out her long, grey-streaked dark hair. She would fall asleep whilst I combed her hair, murmuring about what a good girl I was. Aunt Misa called me her island, because I always seemed so different from my siblings, ever since I was born. I shot out of my mothers womb with a cerulean gaze and a head of ash blonde hair, and I always tried to do right by my family, no matter how cruel they were to me.

Bob was fishing in the lake with a pole, looking tired. The bucket that sat beside him was empty, so it was clear that he hadn't made a catch today. Before he could spot me, I pulled my wand out from the sleeve of my white dress, and coughed a quiet incantation, aiming it at his pole.

Almost immediately, there was a tug on the string, and Bob jolted awake, quickly yanking his pole in. A large, fat cod flew out, landing with a splash on the bank. He climbed to his feet and glanced over to where I was stood. It was only at that point that I really got to admire him - he was a stocky, muscly man, built like a tank with his large shoulders, but he had a gentle, kind face, and shining brown eyes. I tucked my wand away quickly, trying to avert my shy gaze as he began to wander over.

When he stood in front of me, I looked up into his soft eyes, and smiled. "What is your name?" he asked me, returning my smile.

"Isla," I responded quietly.

"My name is Bob Hitchens," he replied. "Would you like to accompany me for a stroll?" He held out his large arm, and gave me a hopeful glance. My smile widened, and I nodded.

I adored him immediately.

* * *

><p><strong>Written for Round 4 for the Hogwarts Writing Competition, Prompt: Tank<strong>

**Word Count: 400**


	13. Elladora - Alexia's Curse

**xiii**

**Elladora Black**

**(Born to Cygnus Black I & Ella Max, 1850)**

* * *

><p>Father used to tell us stories about our scary ancestors.<p>

Alexia was the first. The story of her scooping out the eyeballs of her older sister especially terrified Isla and disgusted Phineus. Phineus joked about Phoebe's blue eyes, and told me he would charm my cerulean ones to change colour. I stuck my tongue out in mock revulsion and pretended to shudder. Secretly, I was thrilled by the gruesome story, and desperate to hear more.

When we were older, we heard the truth about Father's brother. He told us that Uncle Arcturus went insane and murdered various Muggle women, an event which followed the rape of his own sister. Again, I was delightedly shocked by the scandal.

I would look around my siblings and wonder which one of us from this generation of Blacks would become the crazy one.

* * *

><p><em>I'm floating down the upstairs hallway. It's the same hallway that I've walked down a thousand times, but somehow it's different in this dream. <em>

_I'm smaller. I know this because the twitching portraits on the walls are higher. I approach the door at the end of the hall, and push it open. My older brother is sleeping soundly in his bed. In my hand is Mother's wand, which I managed to snatch from her bedroom cabinet earlier in the day._

_She shouldn't have told me that I couldn't play with it. I _always _get what I want._

_The door creaks and I tiptoe my through, and Sirius twitches in his sleep. His eyes flicker open, and he sits up. He looks over at me, but it's too late. _

_I'm holding Mother's wand in front of me. Something stirs deep within me, and the wand shudders in my hand. A spark of green light streams from the tip, and fires directly into my brother's chest._

* * *

><p>I was fifteen when I found Mother crying over images of Sirius.<p>

In her hysteria, she confessed to me that Sirius didn't die from sickness, which is what we all believed. She told me he was murdered the night - by none other than his own sister. By me.

"You're lying!" I screamed at her, when she explained this to me.

"No, my love. And it's all because of your father."

I tried to wonder how this could possibly be my father's fault, but Mother continued.

"Your father isn't Cygnus, sweetheart," she whispered, gazing at me with her tear-filled eyes. "Your father is Uncle Arcturus."

After I beheaded the ancient house elf that had spilled tea all over my lap when I was fifteen, I overheard her telling Father that there was a curse on our wretched family. Something that caused one child of every Black generation to go entirely crazy.

Alexia's Curse.

* * *

><p><strong>Written for Round 5 of the Hogwarts Writing Challenge. <strong>

**Word Count: 504**


	14. Phineas Nigellus - The Devil's Reject

**XIV**

**Phineas Nigellus Black**

**(born to Cygnus Black 1 and Ella Max, 1847)**

* * *

><p>I hated what I had to do, but there was no one else.<p>

Mother had begged me in the dead of the night, when I was at home for Christmas. She was a wreck of the woman she used to be, all skin and bone and heavy purple bags under her eyes. The beautiful Ella Max had become a ghostly, angry entity, just another widowed Black woman left with a handful of unorthodox children and a stately home.

Sirius was long since dead, and Elladora lost what remained of her sanity shortly after discovering what she had done. Of course, Isla was out of the question, considering what she had done.

The fate of pruning away the dead branches of our family tree fell to me, and only me.

oOo

I felt a warm wetness seeping down my cheeks as a thicker substance marred the silver blade that I wielded. I could practically feel the soul leaving the body below me; his silvery essence exiting his shell from the gaping slit that I had opened in his throat.

Cunning and resourceful as I was, and however much my deranged ancestry might have seeped into my blood, I never had dreamed of being a killer. I never thought I would take the life of another, as easily as if I were cutting into soft cheese. I had hopes that I would go on to achieve great things, but yet I was to be forever tethered to the ground by a regret that would no doubt haunt me for the rest of my life.

I was bending down and using the robes of my victim to wipe clean my blade, when I heard footsteps and a door creaking behind me. "Bob?" a female voice called—a voice so familiar, yet so foreign, as I hadn't heard it for years.

I remained silent, shrinking back into the shadows as my estranged sister suddenly entered the bedroom, her face stretched into a wide smile. It was at that point when I felt my heart sinking; my sister was round in the face and swollen in the stomach—she was carrying his child.

Her face fell as she spotted Bob's limp form on the bed, and fear flickered across her face as she realised that blood splattered his skin and the sheets. "Bob?" she gasped, her voice nothing but a horrified echo of her hopeful call just a few seconds earlier.

I took a breath and strolled out from the corner of the room, exposing myself to my sister. Her eyes widened at the sight of me, and a hand jumped to her stomach protectively. "Phineas?" she murmured, eyes wide and unblinking. "D...did you do this?" Tears were springing into her eyes, and she was backing towards the door nervously.

"I had to do it!" I told her.

"No, you didn't!" she shot back, her voice suddenly unnaturally high. The tears burst free from her eyes, and she was suddenly crying, collapsing to the floor with her face in her hands.

My own throat constricted a the sight of my sister, the woman who I loved despite the rift that split our bond right through the middle. "I had to," I repeated, though I knew that I didn't sound very confident. "I had to do it. For the good of the family."

She didn't reply, only continued to sob loudly. I edged closer, and placed a soothing hand on her shoulder, trying to ignore the way she tensed.

"You can return home now," I continued. "You can come back, now that he's been removed. Blood is thicker than water, Isla. Surely you understand that."

She flung my hand away so quickly that I flinched, and whipped her head up to glare at me, pure hatred in her glassy eyes. "Don't you talk to me about blood," she snarled, drawing into a standing position quickly.

She advanced on me, pulling her wand out of the pocket of her robes. Despite her odd, slightly comical appearance with her large tummy, Isla looked intimidating; her hair flaring wildly around her shoulders, and a maniacal look in her eye.

I had no reason to remain, so I quickly disapparated from the scene before Isla could slay me. I had done what Mother had begged of me—the family tree was clean once more.

* * *

><p><strong>Written for <strong>**Hogwarts Book Club**

**Prompts used: **

(Sentence) Blood is thicker than water... - Bonus!  
>(Word) Bond<br>(Genre) Family  
>(Dialogue) "I had to do it!"  "No, you didn't!"


	15. Ursula - Maternal Misgivings

****Written for:  
><strong>**Hogwarts September Event, ****prompt used: Being on the Hogwarts Express

**Word Count: **505

**XV**

**Ursula Black (n****ée Flint)**

**(husband of Phineas Nigellus Black)**

* * *

><p>"Oh, you don't want to sit in there," a voice sounded from outside Ursula's compartment on the Hogwart's Express. It was the snooty voice that Ursula knew belonged to the Parkinson girl, who was in the third year—the year above her. "<em>Ursula Flint <em>sits in there."

"What's wrong with that?" came the muttered response. The door suddenly slid open, and a tall, slim boy with short black cropped hair entered and sat down opposite her. He proceeded to take a book out of his leather satchel, and ignored Ursula completely.

Ursula knew who he was. The boy who had entered her secluded cabin was Phineas Nigellus—he had been sorted into Slytherin alongside her just last year, but he seemed unaware (or uncaring) of who she was.

Frankly, she didn't know _how _anyone would know who she was. Her family had done their absolute best to ensure that no one would know.

Really, she shouldn't have to deal with not having any friends, and having her peers looking down their obnoxious noses at her. Ursula Flint was from a proud, Pureblood family, all of her ancestors had been sorted into Slytherin, and everyone in her bloodline proceeded to marry to eligible families.

But, like all proud eligible families, they had their secrets.

Ursula's mother had been born a Squib. Her parents kept it pretty well hidden, managing to marry her to Ursula's father at quite a young age and giving them reasons why she didn't need to use magic. Of course, Ursula's paternal grandparents did eventually discover that she was a Squib, but by then it was too late. She was seven months pregnant with Ursula.

Luckily, Ursula had been born with magic, and everyone had calmed down. But it didn't stop people who knew of her mother's curse looking down on her.

Ursula didn't know _how _the Parkinsons knew of her mother's lack of magic, but she desperately hoped it wasn't travelling around Hogwarts already. People steered clear of her because they knew that there was _something _wrong with her, but most people couldn't figure out what.

"Are you alright?" a dull voice broke Ursula's train of thought. She glanced up at Phineas, who was giving her an odd look. She realised she had bitten down on a hangnail so hard that she had drawn blood.

"Oh," she murmured, and sucked on her thumb briefly to null the pain. "Yes. Sorry."

"You seem deep in thought," Phineas observed, but his eyes were travelling back to the book in his hand. Ursula knew he had little interest, so she smiled blankly.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," she promised him, and that promise that nothing was wrong would follow her right to her grave.


End file.
